Page 66 of Wicked Games (Fallen Royals 2)

“Shut. Up.”

His knee digs between my shoulder blades, and I freeze.

“Here’s how this is going to go. You’re going to pack a bag and stay at my house for the weekend. We’re going to work on your fucking respect.”

I stay silent.

He gets off of me. “Up.”

I do as he says, moving slowly. I climb to my feet and pivot.

He looks at me like I’m worse than a cockroach. His nose wrinkles. His eyebrows pull down, and his lips twist. “You have five minutes.”

And then he walks out.

Consequences. I knew they were coming. But I didn’t expect them to all happen at once.

I grab a duffle bag I use for away games and shove clothes into it. My running shoes. A jacket and hat. It doesn’t take me long, so I linger for a moment with one of my shirts in my hand. Margo wore it once, and it still smells faintly of her.

I take it with me and jog up the stairs and out the door. I lock it behind me, wondering only briefly at how my uncle was able to get in. I imagine the housekeeper let him in, or the Blacks gave him a key when I first came to live here.

Either way, I wish he didn’t.

The car is idling at the curb. He never drives—just part of his fucking persona—and his driver opens the backseat for me. I hand him my bag and slide in, closing the door behind me.

Uncle David glances over at me. “Coach had a lot to say. And you’ve been disrespecting your mother.”

“I—”

His backhand comes out of nowhere. My head whips to the side, my cheekbone catching fire almost immediately. I don’t move except to straighten my head.

He’s breathing hard. I don’t think he’s had anyone to push around in quite a while—not since I lived with him and Aunt Iris, anyway. It was one of the reasons Eli’s parents said they could take me in. Because I showed up to their house for Eli’s birthday party with bruises on my wrists and a black eye, and Uncle said I just fell down the stairs.

I press my lips together, keeping my hands in my lap.

Only a few more months until I’m free of him. My birthday is in April, and then… no more chains holding me down. No more dealing with my family’s bullshit.

“I was hoping Coach Marzden would be a good influence on you. Guide you the way we couldn’t, since your mother was against our methods.” His jaw tics. “It’s only by your mother’s grace that we didn’t transfer you to Lion’s Head after—”

“I’m sorry.” I don’t mean it.

Uncle grunts, pulling out his phone. It’s clear enough: conversation over.

My cheek throbs. I’m in for one hell of a weekend.

15

Margo

“It was spectacular,” Sav gushes. “She scrambled down the back of the pyramid and ran away, clutching her stomach. Our coach was so pissed at her.”

Riley and Sav look at me. At my unimpressive non-reaction.

“This was your idea, Margo,” Savannah says. “Why aren’t you happy?”

“Because I expected payback.” I rub my arms. The whole weekend, I kept expecting Caleb to accost me. But there’s been nothing. Not a whisper or text from him.

“The whole cheer team is mad at Amelie. Maybe it didn’t go down the way we envisioned with Caleb’s coach—”

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